There Are More Things in Valhalla and Asgard
by traveller19
Summary: Everyone knows that the best way to spend a chilly night is sitting around the fire and telling ghosts stories with your friends. Thor is the god of thunder, a mighty almost-warrior, and the future king of Asgard, and he most definitely does NOT believe in the spirit in Volstagg's story. Or does he?
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is the first of three chapters in my little Halloween-inspired fic. It's all already written, and I'll get the other chapters up over the next couple of days! One note-the word "Ugga" in Old Norse is the verb form of the word "fear". Do what this information what you will! Other than that, I hope you enjoy, and please review! It's the only paycheck we as fanfiction writers get, and it makes me feel all warm inside (even warmer if reviews are left on each chapter!) Without further ado, I proudly present "There Are More Things in Valhalla and Asgard..." (kudos to you if you get the reference!) And a HUGE thank you to my beta, mskaityw! -Traveller

Cold evenings, Thor had always thought, were best spent around a roaring fire with people you cared about, making merry and unwinding from the labors of the day. He was glad to be able to do so this night-he and his five closest friends had spent a busy day training. Most of their work that day had focused on horsemanship, and though Thor would never admit to it aloud, he was grateful for the opportunity to lounge about in the fireside room and rest this aching thigh muscles. Some king of Asgard he would make if he let himself ever again forget for that long that any muscle of his existed. He had been focusing so much on his battle training lately that he had been neglecting his riding. He ought to ride more.

He took a swig from the mug of ale in his hand and then leaned back against the cushions, just content to feel the warmth of the flames on his face for a moment before glancing around the fireside room to see what pursuits his friends were up to. Next to him on the large sofa, Volstagg had dozed off and was snoring softly, a plate of crumbs settled on his lap. On his other side, Fandral was speaking animatedly with Sif, who sat cross-legged on a cushioned chair with a duvet wrapped around her shoulders. She nodded and smiled, but did not contribute much to the conversation. Thor felt a twinge of empathy. Even with a booming voice and the status of first prince, it was often difficult for _him_ to get a word in edgewise when Fandral got really wound up about something. And Sif was more often on the receiving end of such monologues than any of the rest of them-Thor knew that Fandral had a special eye for the warrior lady. He figured this was something Sif did not realize, because her scorn for anything feminine in nature, including romance, would surely have caused her to push him away if she knew. Wouldn't it?

Sif caught Thor's gaze momentarily and flashed him a little grin. He smiled back and tried not to laugh, thankful that Fandral's back was turned to him. Not wanting the talkative blonde to perceive that they were having a silent joke at his expense, however affectionate in nature, Thor turned away to check on Loki and Hogun, who were having a rather intense game of chess in the corner. Or at least, rather intense on one end. Thor had rarely seen Hogun that concentrated in battle training. The grim warrior was hunched over the elaborate mahogany chess table, staring at the players as though any minute one of them might come to life and poke him in the eye with its tiny sword-which, given his opponent, was entirely a possibility. Loki merely looked bored and somewhat amused. It was not difficult to tell who was winning.

With soft chuckle, Thor turned back around and adjusted his position on the couch, feeling the action more than he should have. Thinking no one was watching, he allowed himself the smallest of winces.

"If _you're_ sore, then I definitely don't feel so bad about not being able to move without my muscles screaming." Volstagg must have woken while Thor had been observing the rest of their friends. Thankfully, he kept the comment soft and, glancing quickly about, Thor was certain no one else had heard him.

He laughed slightly. "I suppose I've got quite a bit of a way to go before becoming a cavalryman."

Volstagg laughed, a warm and rumbling sound that never failed to make Thor smile. "The god of thunder, a cavalryman? I should hope that's not what they have in mind for you!"

His attention caught by the large man's mirth, Fandral turned with a grin. "What, were you thinking of taking up horsemanship as a career after today's lesson, Thor? Can you imagine trying to strike down enemies with Mjolnir from the back of a steed? I should think the weight of the thing should cause you to topple right off!"

Thor was about to come back with a tease of his own when Sif's giggle interrupted him. "If you're so keen on riding, Thor, we should race our mounts down the Bifrost causeway someday soon. Then we shall see who the _real_ horseman-or woman-is."

"Don't be ridiculous. My brother doesn't know the tail of a horse from its head." Loki's words were acerbic and his tone sarcastic, but Thor caught the smallest hint of jest in his voice. Then he saw a smirk curve on his lips as he turned his attention back to the chessboard. "By the way, checkmate."

Hogun's eyes widened as he studied the game board. When he saw that he was indeed beaten, he glared at his opponent, almond-shaped eyes narrowed.

"I see how it is, then. You win _again_."

Loki was getting more gleeful by the second. "Yes, you're quite right. I_ do_ win _again_. Thank you as always for the most excellent of games, dear Hogun. Would anyone else like to have a go?" His gaze swept the room, a mischievous gleam dancing in his eyes. "Fandral?"

Thor needed to find a distraction for his little brother, and quickly. Loki was, as usual, looking for trouble. He and Fandral had never been close friends, to put it lightly. Now that Thor thought of it, there was rarely an interaction between the god of mischief and the romantic warrior that did not end some form of disagreement. And Fandral's recently developed attraction for Sif did not help. For though Fandral's special affinity for the warrior woman was plain to see (apparently to everyone but Sif herself), Thor suspected that Loki harbored a bit of a flame for her, as well. The suspicion was based merely on observation and guesswork-of course Loki would never confide such feelings to anyone, not even him. But it gave him yet another excuse to dig at Fandral.

Thor cast about desperately for alternative form of entertainment, but was mercifully saved by Sif.

"I have a better idea." She turned to smile meaningfully at Volstagg. "Volstagg, why don't you tell us a story?"

_An excellent idea. Something to keep Loki's and Fandral's minds engaged and their mouths shut._

"That sounds excellent! Something exciting, Volstagg!" Thor encouraged. Volstagg, the eldest member of their little group, was an excellent storyteller. When Thor and the others were young children they had many an evening sat cross-legged, eyes wide with wonder and delight, while the teenaged Volstagg, large and hairy even then, had spun tales of magical creatures, enchanted ships, and faraway, exotic lands. It was one thing Thor had never outgrown, and judging by the level of enthusiasm in the room, neither had any of the others.

Before Volstagg had even had the chance to acquiesce, they had begun to gather around. With a chuckle that signified he gave in-without much of a fight, given-Volstagg rose and moved to a large cushioned chair so his back mainly faced the fire, giving him an optimum view of his audience, and vice versa. Coming over from corner, Hogun positioned the chair he had been sitting in at the chess table on the side of Sif that was not facing the couch, and Loki took the spot on the sofa that Volstagg had vacated. Thor teasingly tried to snuggle close to him, which resulted in Loki promptly elbowing him in the ribs and nestling as close to the far corner of the sofa as possible. Thor chuckled. Loki glared. Sif rolled her eyes.

"Are the princes done acting like children, or must we make poor Volstagg wait to begin his tale while we put you both in time-out?"

"My apologies, friends. I was the cause of the disturbance." Thor smiled playfully.

"Disturbance? You tried to crush me, you enormous oaf!" Loki's accusation held none of his brother's gamesome manner.

"Must you always be so melodramatic, Loki?" Sif laughed as she spoke, indicating that the comment was to only be taken in jest, but Loki silenced immediately, a wounded look on his face.

"All right, all right," interrupted Volstagg before the bickering could go any further. "Now, do we have any requests, or is this to be a tale of my own choosing?"

"Surprise us, Volstagg." The tips of Fandral's mustache twitched upward as he smiled expectantly, folding his hands in his lap.

"Yes, do," agreed Thor, and the other three nodded their agreement-even Loki, who appeared to have forgotten his offense, seemed to eagerly anticipate the story.

"Very well." Volstagg paused for a moment, deep in thought, and then smiled the smile of one who has just formulated an ingenious idea. It reminded Thor of an expression which very often played upon his brother's face.

"I have the perfect tale for a dark and cold evening, for it will chill you to the bone, even more so than the weather!" Volstagg's brown eyes swept across his little audience, feeding off of their reactions. The five listeners sat with a mostly patient sort of excitement, waiting. The corner of the storyteller's mouth twitched upward, and his eyes met Thor's with a meaningful look.

"You know, it is a pity we haven't the proper _setting_ for such a tale."

It took Thor half a beat to realize what he was getting at. _My pleasure._

He felt the familiar thrill of electricity as it coursed through him, and a fraction of a second later, lightning turned the sky purple through the windows. The sensation was followed almost immediately by a crash of thunder so loud that it rattled the chess pieces, abandoned on the table in the corner.

The effect was just what he had been hoping for. Hogun sat up straight, eyes wide, but Thor barely noticed the grim warrior's reaction for the fact that Fandral yelped and nearly leapt out of his seat in shock. Thor and Volstagg chortled hysterically, and Loki, whose trickster mind had obviously had no trouble guessing the meaning behind Volstagg's comment from the start, laughed heartily along with them. While Thor guessed that Loki's mirth was probably caused less by the humor of the situation and more by the fact that he had been provided with something to laugh at Fandral about, he was at least glad that his little party trick seemed to have gotten him back into his brother's good graces after the snuggling incident.

Sif, who also had not been at all startled by Thor's conjuration, chose not to join in the laughter, and merely rolled her eyes again and shook her head. But as the embarrassed object of their amusement recovered and repositioned himself on the couch, Thor noticed that the warrior woman seemed to be watching Loki rather than the discombobulated Fandral. At first, his brother was so caught up in his revelry that he did not notice. But when his eyes met Sif's, the bottom immediately dropped out of Loki's smile, and he suddenly looked uncharacteristically meek. But then Sif smiled at him, sweetly and genuinely, Loki's expression took on a similar nature in return. It made him seem shy and innocent, almost delicate in nature, and not like himself at all. Thor gave a slight shake of his head, directed at no one in particular. That brother of his was an odd one.

Volstagg's voice drew his attention. "Nicely executed, Thor. But perhaps next time a bit _less_ setting?"

"Really? I thought it was the perfect amount of setting." The god of thunder grinned widely at Fandral, who threw up his hands in a defeated gesture.

"Yes, yes, all right, I know when I've been made a fool of. We've all laughed at Fandral, now can we _please_ get on with the story?"

As the others turned their attention back to the spinner of the tale, Thor reached over to clap Fandral lightly on the upper arm, a silent apology for any offense he might have caused. The romantic was, after all, rather attached to his pride. The blonde warrior shot him a small grin in return, letting him know that no real harm had been done, and all was forgiven.

His audience resettled, Volstagg began his tale once more. "My dear friends, I know the sorts of tales that all of you are accustomed to hearing from me-tales of faraway lands and the people and creatures that can be found there. But tonight, I tell you a different sort of tale. It is one that takes right here in Asgard, and many swear its truth upon their own lives. Tonight, I tell you the story of a place you all know, a place you all _fear_. That place..." Here, Volstagg paused for dramatic effect. "...is the Ugga Ruins."

Thor raised an eyebrow. He did, of course, know of the Ugga Ruins. They were about a three-hour ride from the palace, at the edge of the forest. The others nodded their comprehension-the enormous, crumbling complex of stone had always assumed a sort of hostile and foreboding manner, but Thor had never really thought anything of it. He had never had any reason to get close to the Ruins, having merely ridden by them on his way through the forest for some reason or another.

"They are the remains of an old palace, are they not?" Fandral asked.

"Very true, my friend. Our story takes place during the reign of the Allfather's father's father-millennia upon millennia ago, not long after the very beginnings of the universe itself. Buri, the great king of Asgard, had a very different vision for the kingdom than the peaceful one that our Allfather does today. For the universe was new then, and its peoples did not know the concept nor the value of peace.

"Back in those days, there existed an ancient race of wights called the Vittra, who were invisible and lived underground. The Vittra were evil, vengeful creatures who used magic to achieve their ends, arranging strange accidents to harm or even kill anyone who angered them."

The soft-spoken Loki interrupted him. "What sort of magic?"

Thor noted the intrigue in his brother's voice. It was only natural, he supposed-Loki himself was a scholar of magic and a practiced sorcerer who used his skills for all sorts of endeavors, from pulling pranks to fighting battles. And though his abilities were continually increasing, he was ever looking for more ways to expand his knowledge of the subject.

Volstagg shook his head disapprovingly. "_Dark_ magic, Loki. Practiced with nothing but the most self-centered and cruel of intentions."

Loki looked a little less scornful of the idea than the storyteller, and very interested, but he said no more. Volstagg continued.

"King Buri became angered by the actions of the Vittra, and he sought to destroy them all, for the good of the realm. But there were some Asgardians, sorcerers who dabbled in the dark arts, who did not wish to see the Vittra destroyed. They thought that an alliance could be made with the wights, and that they could work together to fight against other realms who might threaten Asgard.

"But Buri had seen the pain inflicted by the Vittra, and ruled that they be destroyed-every last one of them. The dissenters rebelled, constructing the Ugga Palace as a fortress where they could assemble their forces as well as commune with the Vittra. It is said that the very structure of the palace is laced with dark magic, that it hides in the cracks between every stone."

Thor's mind turned toward the ominous aura the crumbling palace seemed to give off whenever he rode by it. Could Volstagg really be speaking the truth about the ruins? It was said that dark magic could linger forever, long after the sorcerer who had conjured it had passed into the Underworld. But surely the legend was just that-a legend, a story dreamed up long ago around a roaring fire, much like they were doing now.

"What happened to the dissenters?" Hogun's voice was hardly louder than a whisper.

"Buri and fifty of his fiercest warriors rode to the Ugga palace one night. They set upon the fortress like ants upon a discarded crumb. The warriors slaughtered every last one of the rebels. They then went on to destroy the Vittra, driving them out from under the ground and banishing them to the Underworld, where they remain to this day. Finally, Buri had the heads of the rebels put on spikes and set up around the stronghold, so that everyone who passed could see what he would do to those who dared threaten the safety of Asgard and her people. "

As Volstagg paused for breath, Thor glanced at Fandral, and his friend stuck out his tongue in an expression that jokingly portrayed disgust. Thor chuckled. The others ignored him, all still watching Volstagg with intrigue, waiting for him to begin again.

"Something tells me that is not the end of the story," said Thor dryly.

"For the dissenters, it was," Volstagg countered, his face seriousness personified. "At least, for all but one."

All five listeners were fully attentive now.

"The leader of the rebellion was slain at the hands of Buri himself. The story goes that as the captain of the dissenters lay dying with the great king's sword run through his gut, Buri commanded him to relinquish his folly, to say that he and the others were wrong. But the man refused, and he died swearing his vengeance upon all of Asgard."

"Did he get it?" Loki asked quietly, his green eyes wide. Thor had not seen his brother so intrigued by a story since he had been small enough to sit in Thor's lap.

Volstagg shook his head, his countenance grave. "No, Loki, he did not. It is said that his spirit still haunts the Ugga Ruins, forever doomed by his dying oath. They say that if you ride by the ruins at night, you can see him, a figure veiled and shrouded in black, standing atop the crumbling battlements. And whosoever lays eyes upon him will be forever _CURSED_!"

Volstagg's voice rose in volume and emphasis at this last word, causing them all to jump a bit-even Thor, admittedly. Despite his doubts concerning the validity of the tale itself, he would never say that Volstagg was anything less than a superb storyteller. The big man's words had drawn him into the story so much that the final jolt at the end had elicited a reaction from his normally unshakeable self. Not the story itself. Surely Volstagg's voice. Yes, that was it.

Glancing about the room, he took note of the others' responses. Sif seemed, like himself, skeptical, but it did not appear as though she entirely rejected the whole possibility of a doomed spirit haunting the Ugga Ruins. She appeared to be processing the idea, turning it over in her mind. The superstitious Hogun looked completely sold on the prospect-there was no surprise there. His almond-shaped eyes were as wide as Thor had ever seen them. Fandral's face held a similar expression, and Thor imagined that he was thinking about all of the times he had ridden by the Ugga Ruins, sometimes near dark, and consequently having come so close to being cursed. Thor wondered briefly what the worst sort of curse would be for Fandral. Probably something that spoiled his good looks, or possibly his...Thor let that thought trail off, smirking slightly to himself.

But by far the reaction that startled him the most was Loki's. He would not have been surprised at either skepticism or intrigue from his younger brother, but when he glanced to his right he saw that Loki's brow was furrowed with discontent, and his viridian eyes held a guarded mixture of worry and fear. Thor had seen that look many a time through the years, most notably the countless times Loki had crept into his chamber at night when they were younger, following his instinctive need for comfort but his pride not quite allowing him to admit that his nightmares had once again left him frightened. It was the look he used when something had spooked him but he did not wish anyone else to notice. Loki, the most practical of them all, actually _believed_ Volstagg's story.

"An entertaining tale, and a testament to your skills as a storyteller, Volstagg. But surely it is all just a legend?" Thor inquired, keeping his voice light and slightly amused. But Volstagg did not return his smile, and Thor's face fell a bit. "Oh come now, say not that I am the _only_ one who is thoroughly unconvinced of the truthfulness of this...ghost story?" He laughed to try to lighten the mood, but no one laughed with him.

"There is nothing amusing about spirits with unfinished business, Thor," said Hogun solemnly. "They can be very dangerous."

"So can _curses_." Fandral fingered his mustache nervously. Thor tossed an exasperated expression at him and Fandral threw up his hands. "What? _I'm_ certainly never riding by the Ugga Ruins at night. I mean, who knows what that thing could do?! It could turn me into an old, hunched-back creature with warts on his face, or I could lose all my hair, or..."

"Maybe it will turn you into a bilge snipe," said Loki. He sounded hopeful.

Fandral turned to glare at Loki's mocking countenance and opened his mouth for the comeback- which probably would have been something along the lines of "I hope it does so I can trample you"-but the trickster god raised one ebony eyebrow in an expression that clearly dared him to say something, _anything_ to offend the second prince of Asgard. Fandral shut his mouth.

"So you don't believe in curses then, Loki?" Thor could not hardly have misinterpreted his brother's earlier reaction, could he?

Loki turned away from Fandral to gaze thoughtfully into the fire, its warm glow contrasting with both the chill outside and the coldness of their thoughts. "Maybe not curses as all of you seem to see them," he began, his voice even softer than normal, "but I definitely agree with Hogun. I've read enough books on sorcery to know that angry or restless spirits are not something to be trifled with."

Thor raised an eyebrow. Loki was _always_ reading books on sorcery, in nearly every moment of his spare time. And he was as frequently practicing the spells he learned from them, or trying out new ones. This, however, was the first time Thor had ever heard him speak of spirits. But Loki _did_ look troubled-that much was obvious to his protective elder brother.

Sif spoke suddenly, as if breaking out of a long period of thought. "I don't suppose I can truly believe in it until I see it."

Fandral shot her his signature _are-you-completely-mad?_ look. "Sif, that completely defies the point! By the time you've seen the spirit, it's cursed you!"

Sif did not look particularly phased. "I think I agree with Loki on this. I don't think I believe in curses." As she continued to speak, her voice grew louder and more confident, more characteristic of her manner. "And if there _is_ a spirit who has a problem with us, then let us give it a problem to deal with!"

"That's the spirit, Sif!" Thor was pleased that someone finally seemed to agree with him on at least part of his sentiments. This whole thing was getting to the point of rather ridiculous. "And a very good idea. I say we ride out to the Ugga Ruins and settle this matter once and for all."

"Is that wise, Thor?" Clearly Volstagg did not wish to insult the grandiose schemes of the first prince, but it was obvious that he was incredibly uncomfortable with this idea.

"Perhaps not," Thor admitted with a shrug, "but how else can I prove to my friends, who are soon to be my warriors, that there is nothing to be afraid of?"

"And if there is?" Hogun was very clearly not convinced.

"Then, brave Hogun, we will show it that it would be wise to fear the mighty warriors of Asgard!" Thor had to hand it to himself-one thing he had always been good at was inspiring others to follow where he led. He could see Hogun's reservations receding a little bit, and he looked as though he were softening to the idea of an expedition. Volstagg also seemed to be slowly opening up to the idea-he was always one for proving his courage. They were nervous, yes, but Thor knew they would follow where he led. And Sif had practically thought of the idea herself-clearly she was on board. Now for the other two members of their little group.

"Thor, are you_ insane_?" Fandral the Talkative was not nearly so tactful as Volstagg when it came to his doubts about Thor's ideas. Loki looked a bit jealous, as though Fandral had just stolen the words he planned to say right out of his mouth.

"This is not about my sanity, my friend." Thor clapped a hand to Fandral's shoulder.

"Then what, pray tell, is this about?" Loki looked positively exasperated with his elder brother's mad proposition. This was, perhaps, a historic moment-the whole of the group on the opposite side of the matter while Loki and Fandral actually agreed on something. Thor could not recall an instance of that ever having occurred before. Fleetingly, he wondered how they would react if he pointed that out. But he thought it better to let the moment last.

"This is about proving that our hearts are stronger than our imaginations! We will lay the doubts about the spirit of the Ugga Ruins to rest forever, and test our bravery in the process!" Thor paused his inspirational speech to take in reactions. Sif and Volstagg were smiling. Hogun, had he been one for smiling, probably would have been as well-as it was, he looked inspired, or at least Thor thought so. Fandral looked as though he were resigned to a terrible fate, but resigned all the less. Loki still looked as though his patience were being put to the most grueling of tests, but he generally looked that way any time Thor had an idea. The god of thunder had learned not to let it affect him.

"So it is settled. Tomorrow night we ride for the Ugga Ruins to take on the spirit, once and for all!"


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: This is part two of three. Thank you to everyone who reviewed! Please keep them coming, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story! -Traveller

Although the mid-afternoon sun streamed pleasantly through the windows of the palace library and warmly illuminated most of the tables and chairs, Thor still found his brother sitting in a dark corner, a hefty volume propped up on the table in front of him, veiled in shadow. He knew this behavior, which would have seemed odd if performed by anyone else, was because Loki liked privacy while he read. And as Loki's boisterous brother, it was of course Thor's solemn duty to interrupt that privacy in as annoying a manner as possible.

He hadn't a hope of sneaking up on Loki and startling him-he had never met anyone who could do that-so instead he did just the opposite. The library appeared to be otherwise unoccupied, so Thor did not feel bad about disturbing anyone else's reading or work as he sidled into the enormous atheneum, weaved his way between the mahogany bookshelves, plopped down noisily into the chair across the table from Loki, and exclaimed loudly,

"Good afternoon, dear brother!"

Loki did not even give him the satisfaction of a glare. He just rolled his eyes in a bored manner over the edge of the colossal tome, and then went back to his reading as though Thor had not interrupted him.

Thor, of course, would not let him off so easily.

"I said 'good afternoon, dear brother!'" He boomed, edging his face closer to the book, his smile so wide it showed all of his perfectly white teeth.

This elicited more of a reaction. Loki lowered the book enough to scowl at him and said, his voice, words, and expression all drenched with sarcasm,

"I am sorry. I was not aware that that statement required a response." He then propped the book back up and turned the page with a wave of his index finger.

"It is good to see you are your normal, cheerful self this afternoon." Thor folded his hands and placed them on top of the table.

"And it is good to see you are your normal, loud, obnoxious, irritating self. Now are we going to exchange pleasantries all afternoon, or is this conversation going to go anywhere? I would very much like to get back to the reading I was doing before I was so churlishly interrupted." Loki appeared, as a matter of fact, to still be reading as he spoke, but Thor guessed that he was just pretending so that he would not have to make eye contact with him. He bent his head to peer curiously at the title of the book in Loki's hands.

"_Influencing Animal Thought and Behavior: A Sorcerer's Perspective._ Quite the lengthy title. What are you planning on doing, brother, brainwashing all of the squirrels in Asgard and forming an army?"

"Perhaps that, amongst other things," Loki mused uninterestedly, once again turning the page without actually touching it.

Thor chuckled. "This might actually turn out to be an effective plan. If the Frost Giants decide to stir up trouble, you could lead your squirrel army into Jotunheim, and they could gnaw the giants to death!" The mental image of an enormous blue being with menacing red eyes jumping around and writhing in agony while tiny, furry animals climbed all over it was too much for Thor-he dissolved into laughter.

"I will set them on _you_ if you do not leave me in peace." Loki's tone held little threat, but there was just enough that Thor could tell he was beginning to get edgy. Loki had a tendency to act as though nothing was bothering him, and then suddenly turn completely around with an eruption of anger or biting retorts. Dealing with the god of mischief was often like poking a poisonous snake with a stick-and right now, he was coiled and ready to strike. Thor decided for his own safety to return to his original purpose for coming.

"All right, then. You shall have your peace. I just wished to inform you that we shall be leaving for our...expedition one hour after dinner tonight. We will meet in the stables."

Loki peered over his text again to raise a questioning eyebrow at Thor.

"And tell me, brother dear, just who is _we_? I certainly have no intention of participating in your ridiculous romp."

Thor's face fell. "You mean you will not be joining us on our ride to the Ugga Ruins?"

"When did I ever give you the impression for a moment that I had even the slightest inkling of riding three hours in the freezing cold just to see some crumbling rocks and prove that something will _not_ be there, and then ride all the way back in the dark? Yes Thor, that absolutely sounds like my idea of an entertaining evening." Loki shook his head incredulously, seeming surprised that even Thor could come up with so foolish a misconception.

"But I thought you would be eager to see the spirit firsthand, after all you've read about them," said Thor, harkening back to Loki's comment the night before- "_I've read enough books on sorcery to know that angry or restless spirits are not something to be trifled with._" Granted, the statement had been put forward with the purpose of expressing a warning rather than eager interest, but Thor chose to ignore that particular detail.

Loki regarded him for a moment with a questioning look, but then responded with his characteristic quiet composure. "I think reading about them is enough for me. I need no visual affirmation of my knowledge, nor do I have any knowledge to gain from simply laying eyes upon a spirit. Therefore, I see no point in my accompanying you."

Thor studied him for a moment before suddenly breaking out into a wide grin.

"I know what this is. You, Loki Odin's son, are _scared_."

He had expected that jab, designed to hit one of the closest things to Loki's heart-his pride-to result in yelling, a torrent of insults, and possibly books flying from their shelves at the wave of a hand to hit him in the head. But to Thor's surprise, there was none of that. Loki simply shrugged and said calmly,

"No. I am cautious. But of course I could never expect _you_ to be able to distinguish between the two."

Thor chose to ignore that return poke and returned to the subject at hand. "There is nothing to be cautious _of_, brother! There is no spirit!"

"So that is the entire point of this folly? So you can prove to the others-and me-that there is no spirit?" Loki paused, green eyes burning into Thor's blue ones, as though he sought to extract Thor's true motives simply by the intensity of his gaze. Then suddenly, those eyes lit up with understanding, and Loki's lips curled into a sneer. "Or perhaps you seek to prove it to _yourself_?"

Thor leapt to his feet and slapped his hands down hard upon the table, bending over so that his face was even with and very close to Loki's.

"There. Is. No. Spirit. This I know for a fact. The purpose of this expedition is just what I claimed last night-to prove to my future warriors that their hearts are stronger than their imaginations." He narrowed his eyes at Loki, who continued to smirk.

"Quite confident, aren't we? Well, I can see there's no deterring you, but I am afraid there is nothing you can say that will convince me to accompany you. After dinner I will take my mare for a short canter so she does not stiffen after yesterday's training, and then I will read in front of the fire. I daresay I will spend my evening in a far more warm and comfortable manner than the rest of you."

"Life is not all about warmth and comfort, Loki," said Thor somberly.

"All the same, I _am_ looking forward to it. But I do wish you safe travels. Good day, brother." And with that, Loki buried his nose in his enormous book again. Thor sighed softly-there was no way he was going to win this, that much he could see now.

"All right, brother, have it your way. Good day."

Thor left the library without either of them speaking another word. Embarrassingly, his mind returned to Loki's mocking comment- "_or perhaps you seek to prove it to yourself?_" No, of course Thor did not need to prove to himself that the spirit of the Ugga Ruins did not exist. He was Thor, the future king of Asgard, the god of thunder, and a fierce warrior (or at least, very soon-to-be warrior)-of course he did not believe in spirits.

_Of course not_, he repeated to himself. Why then, did he continue to remind himself of that?

By the time the five of them reached the stables, Loki's bay and tack were already gone. Sif raised an eyebrow in the direction of the mare's empty stall.

"The sorcerer is not interested in meeting the spirit? Now that _is_ a surprise."

"_Unsurprisingly_, he would rather spend his evening with a book than having an adventure," responded Thor. "That is Loki, through and through."

Sif smiled, the expression fond rather than mocking or unkind. "Yes, I suppose it is."

"Well, I must say I believe Loki might actually have the right idea this time," said Fandral. It was obvious he was still not completely comfortable with the whole idea, either. Thor decided it was best to start the journey before he, or any of the others, decided that they, too, would rather spend their evening within the warm protection of the palace.

"Come, let us depart. The sooner we leave, the longer we will have the light."

They mounted their steeds, tacked up in advance by the stable hands, and headed away from the sunset, with each stride of their horses getting further away from light, the safety of the palace, and the confidence in their hearts.

Three hours was a very long ride, Thor realized, when one already had an incredible case of saddle-stiffness. The soreness in his thighs was even worse today. Because their training the previous day had been so intensely physical in nature, the warrior pupils had spent the morning in an incredibly boring lecture on strategical theory and had then been given the afternoon to do as they wished. Therefore, he had not really had a reason to use his painful muscles before now-and that, he realized, had been a mistake.

He tried not to look as uncomfortable as he felt as Sif reigned her gray mare up beside him. She had her hood pulled up against the chilly evening, a few strands of her long dark hair just visible from beneath it. Her cloak was wrapped tightly around her body so that it showed off her perfectly curved frame. Her mare's ears twitched backward as it listened to her commands, and she spoke gently and affirmatively to the beast under her breath, stroking the soft neck gently with her ivory hand. The whole effect was very feminine. Thor marveled at how someone who wished so much to cast aside the stereotypes of her gender could embody it so perfectly.

Although he admired the warrior woman's beauty, Thor had never considered himself and Sif to be anything more than friends. Some of his most humiliating defeats in the training ring had come at her hands, but so had some of his most exhilarating fights. She gave him the opportunity for the competition he craved-while Loki was also very competitive, he was never so gracious a loser as either of them, and so Thor much preferred to to exercise his healthy need for rivalry with Sif. Their personalities were just alike in so many ways-they were both full of fire and life, impulsive-with the tendency to act long before they thought-and fiercely loyal. He knew of at least two men currently vying for her romantic affections-albeit in very different ways-and he had no inkling or desire to join them in doing so. He wondered if he had had a sister, he would have felt the same way about her as he felt about Sif. Either way, she was a dear friend.

"I've never seen the Ugga Ruins up close." She spoke the words to her horse, and at first he thought she was actually talking to her mount, or perhaps to herself. But then she turned to regard him, and he realized that she had actually intended to engage in conversation.

"I...actually, neither have I." Why did it feel faintly hypocritical for him to admit this?

She raised an eyebrow, and it disappeared into the shadow of her hood. "Even when the sun is out?" There was a faint note of mockery in her voice. It made Thor mildly uncomfortable.

"No, not even when the sun is out. Does it matter?" Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

She pursed her lips in a playful manner and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. Does it?"

He decided that two could play this game. "I suppose it only matters if you believe in the spirit," he returned, his tone impish.

She smiled softly and turned her gaze back to the path ahead of her. "That is why I said I do not know. As I said last night, I cannot believe in the spirit until I've seen it. But nor can I _disbelieve_ in it."

Thor gave a low chuckle and a shake of his head. "Has anyone ever told you what a marvel you are, Sif?"

She grinned. "On several occasions, but there is no harm in reiterating that point. Do elaborate."

He laughed softly again. "What I meant was, you are the only person out of all of us who does not seem irrevocably set on a belief in this matter, one way or the other. I hold there is no ghost, while Volstagg, Hogun, and Fandral all believe that there is. Even Loki seemed convinced by Volstagg's story last night. But you, Sif, somehow manage to withhold your judgment, not let your pride or your fears cloud your view of the truth. I suppose I am curious as to...how?"

She smiled, slackening the reins with one hand for a moment and using them to rub her horse's neck, showing kindness to the mare both by relaxing her grip on the bit and stroking her lovingly. The gray horse snorted softly in contentment, and Sif murmured something inaudible to her, seeming to be having a private conversation that only her and the horse could understand. She did not seem to be feeling the physical consequences of the previous day's hard ride at all, Thor noticed with a flicker of envy. But then again, Sif was a much more avid horsewoman than he was a horseman.

"I wonder if it is perhaps because I am a woman."

The comment, if expressed with the right tone of voice, had the potential to be presented as full-on mockery. But while Sif's voice did hold a hint of jest, for the most part she seemed thoughtful, and maybe even a bit surprised. All her life, Sif's status as a woman had been the bane of her existence, for it was something she could not help. Her mother had tried desperately to encourage her to learn to be a proper lady, but all Sif had ever wanted to do was follow in the footsteps of her three elder brothers and be just like them, fighting and shooting and riding. She normally hated having any attention at all drawn to her sex, which was what surprised Thor as well about her statement. _She has grown_, he realized silently. He smiled kindly at her.

"Aye, and a strong one at that."

Both the content of the remark and the earnestness of his tone seemed to momentarily catch her off her guard, but then she responded to the compliment with a silent yet grateful smile. She then turned her gaze to where the sun was beginning to sink below the horizon, leaving the sky a brilliant mosaic of purples and reds.

"Come Thor, do you not think it wise to increase the horses' pace? If we do not make good time now, we will not find our way to the Ugga Ruins at all. We should at least pick up a steady canter." Her voice was practical, and she had returned to the Sif he knew best-the gentle, feminine air was gone, put to rest for another time.

Thor sighed inwardly. He hated to admit it, but he _hurt_. And his horse merely ambled along now! Cantering required a much stronger engagement of the thigh muscles. He desperately did _not_ want to canter. Or gallop, for that matter-knowing Sif, there would undoubtedly be some of that, as well. But of course, she was right-they needed to hurry. With a nod, Thor braced his muscles for the torture and signaled his stallion to pick up speed.

Despite his discomfort, Thor had to admit that they made good time until night fell in earnest, and they were forced to slow to a trot, and as they reached the edge of the forest, a walk. He was grateful for the cloudless sky and full moon, which hung large and low in the sky-the night might be cold, but at least they could see. He was just thinking that they had to be getting quite close to their destination when suddenly he felt his horse leap sideways and his own body move tensely to compensate. His thigh muscles tightened instinctively to keep from tumbling sideways onto the ground, and he winced as his stiffness was once again aggravated. There was a distinct possibility he would not be able to walk tomorrow.

"Steady, steady," he murmured to soothe his frightened stallion. The white ears were pricked, and he could feel the animal's tenseness beneath him. For a moment he feared his mount might bolt, and he positioned his reins so that he could pull the horse's head around if required. He heard a surprised cry from behind him and the sound of hooves stomping and tack clanking. He wheeled his horse around to see Volstagg's chestnut showing the whites of its eyes. Fandral's and Hogun's bays shifted restlessly as the red stallion danced about. Volstagg seemed already to be fighting for his seat-Thor guessed that the noise he had heard had probably been that of the horse rearing up-and suddenly it occurred to him that if it were to happen again, the large warrior would undoubtedly come out of the saddle. Desperately, Thor began grasping at possible ways he could help his friend, but with his own horse growing increasingly more uneasy, there was nothing he could do.

Thankfully, just before the chestnut could rise up on its back legs again, Sif was suddenly standing on the ground in front of it, grasping its reins just below the bit and stroking its muzzle and neck, murmuring softly. After an unsettling half-minute, the horse calmed enough so that Volstagg was able to regain his seat and control. As the tension in the air eased, Thor felt his own stallion begin to relax as well. Sif calmly remounted her mare and left Volstagg, who was still struggling to catch his breath, in the care of Fandral and Hogun and rode up beside Thor.

"What is frightening the horses?" She asked, glancing around, searching the shadows.

"I do not know. I was hoping you might have had an answer for me on that matter." Sif had by far the best control over her horse, and Thor was hoping that she might have had just enough concentration to spare to notice what had set everyone else's mount into a frenzy.

She shook her head. "It could have been anything, I suppose. It is dark, and they can sense things that we cannot."

_What things?_ Thor could not help but wonder, when he heard Fandral's voice from behind him.

"Look! There, just ahead! Is that...?" He trailed off, but Thor turned to see him pointing an index finger and followed the direction with his gaze. And then he saw what Fandral had seen, and he hated to admit that he felt his heart begin to beat faster.

In the distance, the Ugga Ruins loomed dark and foreboding. It was an altogether different effect than he had experienced when riding by them during the day. In the sunlight, they had seemed to give off an air of warning and foreboding, as though something not altogether pleasant had taken place there a very, very long time ago. Now, with only the light of the full moon to illuminate it, the crumbling stone fortress seemed many times more imposing, and the sense of menace was amplified. It was almost as though something within the ruins had...changed.

_Do not be ridiculous, Thor._

That was funny. The practical voice inside his head sounded a lot like Loki. He took a steadying breath and said confidently,

"My friends, it would appear as though we have reached our destination."

"Excellent. We've made it! Can we go home now?" Fandral chuckled nervously, and beside him, Hogun nodded in agreement. Thor shook his head affectionately yet firmly.

"Oh come now, we have journeyed all this way! It is only a few more minutes' ride until we are upon the ruins themselves. Surely we cannot give up_ now_."

Fandral and Hogun looked disappointed. Volstagg sighed, defeated. "Then lead the way, Thor."

"Come along, my brave friends. You will see that the legend of the spirit of the Ugga Ruins is but that-a legend." Having to instill confidence in his companions somehow made Thor feel more confident himself, and he urged his horse forward. The stallion, while now controllable, still seemed nervous, flinching at every noise. He spoke to it, his voice low and soothing, his words and his breath turning to fog in the moonlight. Was it just him, or did it seem even colder than before?

The ruins were in the middle of a natural clearing in the tree line, marking the beginning of the deep forest of Asgard. It was not until their small party reached this clearing that Thor could begin to truly realize just how _enormous_ the Ugga Ruins were. He squeezed the reins and brought his horse to a halt and just gazed at them.

What had once been an incredibly solid piece of architecture was now a crumbling skeleton of what had long ago stood tall and strong. The entire fortress was constructed solely of stone, and there were three stories, each fronted with a wall that was meant for protection during battle; however, it had fallen away in several places, leaving the insides of the bastion exposed, like a fleshy bit not covered by armor. The footing of the levels themselves had also eroded with time, leaving gaps, some larger than others-anyone foolish enough to test their fortune by mounting the structure would have to jump over them, and some of the spaces looked to be too far apart to even attempt that. At each corner, what remained of a watchtower reached up to the heavens. Only one remained intact enough to even identify its originally intended function.

Although Thor's brain told him that it was just an old structure-a very large, very formidable-looking structure, yes, but merely a structure all the same-something about it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand erect. Perhaps it was the quality of abandonment about it, as though no Asgardian had set foot upon it in millennia. It was so ancient, and yet so untouched-a tribute to the ravages of time and yet a symbol of the ability to outlast so many years of natural processes. It was beautiful, and yet, Thor had to assent, terrifying.

But he did not allow that final feeling to show in his face or his tone and he turned to his friends, who had now assembled close behind him. "My courageous warriors, we stand here before the Ugga Ruins beneath the light of the moon. As you can see, they are merely a very old, very abandoned stronghold. There is no spirit, there is no curse, and there is no dark magic."

He smiled confidently and waited for the others to do so as well. He expected them to agree with him, to laugh at how foolish their fears had been, and how they had allowed their minds to carry them away to a place governed by paranoia and superstition, not by the bravery they as warriors were taught to embody.

Instead, all four of them were staring past Thor, their gazes directed at the massive fortress behind him, eyes as wide as dinner plates. Fandral raised a trembling arm and pointed with a sole finger, and said, his voice unnaturally high-pitched,

"Then _what_ is _that_?"

In confusion, Thor wheeled his horse around to face the ruins, and he felt his heart begin to race. For standing atop the third story of the battlements, visible through one of the exposed portions of the crumbled wall, stood a tall figure, hooded and shrouded in black. Not an inch of the apparition remained uncovered-its face was hidden by a veil, and even its hands were covered with a black, flowing material. The moonlight seemed to give the specter an aura, the pale rays illuminating its dark outline and obscuring the details of its appearance. The entire effect caused a shiver to run down Thor's spine. Volstagg's voice, hoarse and shaky, mirrored his fear.

"It...it's the spirit of the Ugga Ruins!"

Thor had often wondered what it felt like to fight in a real battle. He suspected it could not be very much like their practice spars in the training ring, for in a real battle he would be fighting enemies who wanted to kill him, not his friends who meant him no harm. Frequently he attempted to think of things that might simulate the fear he would feel in such a situation. In retrospect, he would think that it probably felt _nothing_ like he did now. For in a battle, he would be fighting opponents of flesh and blood, capable of bleeding and dying. Not this horrid _thing_, supernatural and out of a realm and a time all its own.

In the presence of this paranormal being and faced with a situation he had not been prepared to encounter, Thor's first instinct was to _run_, to put as much distance between himself and the spirit as possible, preferably before it noticed their presence. But before he could move, the specter slowly raised and arm and pointed its finger directly at them.

"That's it! It's cursed us! We're all doomed!" Fandral's voice was a strangled whisper.

Cursed? In his mind, which was moving sluggishly from the shock, Thor vaguely recalled that particular portion of Volstagg's tale, and how just one night previous he had scoffed at the idea. He was definitely not so set in his beliefs now, but the terror in Fandral's voice made up his mind. Someday, he would lead the small party with whom he now rode into battle. He _would not_ let them see that he was afraid.

"There are no such things as curses, Fandral!" He feared he sounded more frustrated than reassuring.

"Then what is it doing?" Fandral's voice was at least two octaves higher than normal-he sounded much akin to a squeaking mouse.

"It has singled us out. It is going to take all of its need for revenge on Asgard out on _us_." Hogun, normally so calm and collected, did not even attempt to hide the tremors in his voice.

Just then, as they watched, the shrouded apparition waved its hands dramatically, and plumes of thick gray smoke began to billow around the figure, first surrounding it and then drifting down toward the ground. When it reached the ground, the smoke began to float toward the five riders, moving faster and faster.

"What _is_ he doing?" Thor heard Sif murmur, nearly echoing Fandral's question from moments before. Unlike the blonde warrior, however, she sounded more puzzled than terrified. But Thor did not have time to think about her reaction because Fandral now squeaked desperately,

"Thor, what are we waiting for? Let's get out of here!"

The smoke continued to close in on them. Volstagg nodded quickly. "Yes Thor, let us leave! There is nothing more we can do here, and there is no telling what dark magic lies within that awful mist!"

Volstagg made a fair point-what else could they do? Thor was about to signal the retreat when he realized that the smoke was nearly upon them, ready to obscure their vision and smother their breathing. The idea of choking to death on the phantom's conjuration set his heart to beating even faster, and in the midst of his fear, Thor's instincts took over.

Thrusting Mjolnir toward the blackened sky, he called heavens together to center a heavy thundercloud over the Ugga Ruins, its edges stopping just short of where he and the others sat upon their steeds. For a fraction of a second, fingers of lightning lit up the sky, filtering a pale purple through the smoke. Then came the thunder, loud and metallic, as though two enormous swords had just been struck together above their heads. And finally, there was the rain. There was no introductory sprinkle-the torrential downpour was instantaneous, soaking the ruins and the ground and sending the spirit's smoke swirling around and receding. It was an interesting phenomena, noted Thor absently, his mind slowing down once more as it recovered from this last surge of fear, to have a pouring rain stop but inches from the end of your nose and yet not be touched by a single drop.

"Come, let us put this place behind us!" He turned to his friends, who seemed more than happy to follow his command. Fandral spurred his horse into a gallop, weaving around the trees as fast as he could, with Hogun and Volstagg in hot pursuit. Only Sif remained, still gazing at the spectacle before her, as though she was trying to make out the shape of the figure through the smoke and the rain.

"Sif, we must go!" Thor urged her, and his voice seemed to snap her out of a reverie. She wheeled her mare around and trotted after him without argument, but Thor thought he saw her glance back over her shoulder once before they had left sight of the ruins.

It was not until they were nearly back to the warm safety of the palace that he remembered Sif's words the previous night, and her enthusiasm to challenge the spirit. He realized that she had not even tried to do that when actually presented with the opportunity. It was certainly an abnormal action for the battle-ready warrior woman, but it had not been done out of fear. While the others-and Thor himself, he admitted, loathing doing so-had found themselves unable to properly function for their fear, Sif had seemed almost curious when presented with the supernatural being. Thor thought about asking her why, but that would mean he would have to admit his own fear to her.

He chose to ride in silence for the rest of the journey home.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: And here's part three! I hope you've enjoyed my little story! As always, reviews are very much appreciated! -Traveller

When they finally arrived back at the palace, it was past midnight and everyone else had long since retired to bed. Thor ordered a guard, who looked to be half-asleep beneath his helmet, to rouse the stableboys and have their horses seen to. Less than two minutes had passed before two yawning lads stumbled out of the hayloft and relieved the five riders of their tired steeds from where they stood outside the stable in the courtyard. Satisfied that their mounts would be well cared for, Thor and his friends staggered wearily into the palace and retired to their chambers without so much as a word. Thor was stiff, sore, and utterly exhausted-the late night, the long ride, and the comedown from the rushes of adrenaline of which he had known many these past few hours had completely sapped him of every ounce of his energy. Once he had crawled into bed and pulled the blankets about his shoulders, he was immediately asleep.

But his rest was truncated by the arrival of dawn, and when he awoke he felt little better. He always regretted staying awake late into the night the next morning, and he always forgot his regrets each time he decided to do it again. Of course most times that happened, he was dealing with a fierce hangover in addition to unresolved exhaustion. But this was not much better.

The warrior pupils took their breakfast together at one of the tables in the banquet hall, as they did most mornings prior to their sessions in the training ring. Everyone else looked the way Thor felt. They all had dark circles beneath their eyes and a general haggard, bedraggled look about them. None of them had seemed to put any particular effort into their appearance that morning-even Fandral's mustache was not properly styled. And they were all nearly as silent as they had been during the long ride home the previous night, keeping their eyes fixed for the most part on their hotcakes, eggs, and bacon, and away from each other. Thor was acutely aware of the rather embarrassing events of the previous night-both his failed judgment and his terror, and he was sure that Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg were as well. He imagined Sif kept silent to avoid further humiliating them after their blatant lack of courage. Thor had to admit he was grateful for that.

When he finally did allow his gaze to flick briefly above the food on his plate, he realized quite suddenly that Loki had not joined them for breakfast. That was odd-although his brother had never displayed an excessive fondness for food in the way Thor did, his pride had always driven him to be present at gatherings centered around meals, whether it be with their family or friends, or large banquets. And Loki was certainly to be the most rested of all of them this morning. It was very strange, indeed.

"Has anyone seen my brother?" His concern drove him to break the tense silence.

There was a general consensus of the negative, without much of anything being said. No one else seemed particularly worried by Loki's absence, or perhaps they just chose not to discuss it, preferring instead to turn their eyes back to their food and away from each other. Thor downed the rest of his breakfast and got slowly to his feet, his fatigued body protesting the motion harshly.

"I will see you in the training ring." He did not even attempt to sound enthusiastic about that, despite the fact that sparring was one of his great passions in life. He imagined that his performance would not be anything close to its typical caliber today. He was much too tired and much too sore for that. His prediction the previous day of waking up unable to walk had been nearly accurate. Never had he felt such intense saddle-stiffness in all his centuries-long life.

It took him far longer than it should have to reach Loki's chamber. Thor knocked and called out,

"Loki, are you in there?"

There was only silence for several seconds, and Thor was about to go search elsewhere for his brother when he heard a slightly stifled "Yes."

"May I come in?"

"If you _insist_." The answer sounded weary.

Thor opened the door and stepped into the chamber, which was decorated with mahogany furnishing and accented with emerald green. His brother sat in bed, leaning back against his sea of pillows, his comforter pulled up to his chest. A book lay open across his blanketed lap, but he was not reading it. Loki's eyes were closed, and he was pinching the bit of his forehead just above the bridge of his nose. He wore a rather uncomfortable expression. When he heard Thor come in, he removed his hand and opened his eyes to regard him with an irritated look.

"What do _you_ want?" He did not even attempt creativity to go along with his nastiness, a sure sign that he lacked energy, and Thor thought he sounded rather congested. This was confirmed when Loki was suddenly overcome by a fit of wet, painful-sounding coughs. Startled to see his normally dignified brother in such a state, as usual the concerned Thor said the first thing that came to mind.

"Brother, are you quite well?"

His fit finally subsiding, Loki turned to regard him with an expression of utter and total amazement.

"Thor, do I _sound well_?"

"No, not in the least." Thor went to sit on the edge of the bed even as Loki shot him a withering look before beginning once more to rub his aching sinuses. "Are you...all right?"

There was more glaring daggers, and for a moment Thor thought Loki was going to send an acerbic retort his way. But his brother obviously caught the worry in his eyes and took his meaning, and instead answered wearily,

"I've caught a cold, you bloody oaf."

Well, there was that, at least. Anyway, Thor figured that if his brother was truly very ill, he would not be glowering or sniping at him at all. But, being the overprotective elder brother that he was, Thor would have worried until he had asked.

"Where did this come from? You seemed as though you were feeling fine yesterday."

"Yes, I was fine when I went to bed last night, and I woke up with a cold. That occasionally happens to people, Thor." Loki's characteristic sarcastic tone showed itself again, but with nothing close to its usual ferocity. He coughed again and then swallowed, his face contorting into a wince. The corner of Thor's mouth twitched sympathetically, and he poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the bedside table and handed it to his brother. Loki accepted the offering wordlessly, but his eyes flicked to Thor's for a moment, and Thor was positive he saw at least a hint of gratitude there. He smiled to himself while Loki drank.

"I've been meaning to tell one of the servants to have my window mended. It lets in a terrible draft. That's what brought this on, I'm certain," Loki pouted as he set the glass down on the bedside table. Thor wondered why Loki had not dealt with the problem of his drafty window before now-the weather had been getting progressively colder for several weeks, and surely the previous night could not have been the first time the chill had bothered him. It was unlike his brother, to let something like that go on for so long.

"I will have it seen to immediately." Thor rose from the bed and went to briefly examine the offending framework. He could find no source of a draft, but then again he was a prince and consequently not at all handy with mending things. He would ask one of the palace servants to see to it.

As he turned around, Thor's saddle-stiffness reared its ugly head, and he placed a hand on the back of the desk chair next to him, over which Loki's riding cloak was draped, to help ease himself around. But when he touched the garment, he noted something surprising.

"Loki, your cloak is damp."

Loki's green eyes widened and for a moment, he looked frozen, like a stag that had just heard the soft crunch of a hunter's boot. Then he lowered his eyes to his comforter and said, quietly,

"I...I lied, Thor. There isn't any draft coming from my window. What really happened..." He paused to cough, and managed to look heartbreakingly miserable while doing so. "What really happened was I was riding alongside the river last night when my horse's steps disturbed a partridge, which flew out unexpectedly from the brush along the shore. My mare took fright and I lost my seat and landed in the river." He pulled his knees up to his chin and hid his face behind them, obviously humiliated at this admission.

"And you rode home soaking wet in the cold?" Thor affirmed, and Loki nodded, looking absolutely pitiful. "You're lucky you didn't catch your death! Are you hurt otherwise?"

Loki shook his head. "A few bruises here and there, but the water broke my fall for the most part. My pride took the hardest blow, I suppose. Besides catching this wretched cold, that is." He sniffled pathetically. "The ride home was awful. I thought I'd never stop shivering."

"My poor Loki." Thor rubbed his back sympathetically. He was a bit surprised at his brother's sudden change in demeanor-he suddenly seemed very willing to accept Thor's comfort, and he made no attempt to avoid his touch. But Thor would not question it. If it were up to him, Loki would always be this receptive to his ministrations in times of need-it was an overprotective elder brother's dream, really. It was probably because Loki was feeling ill, Thor thought, and did not possess the energy to push him away, either physically or verbally.

"Why did you not tell me the truth in the first place?" It was probably not the most intelligent of questions, he thought in retrospect. His brother was, after all, the god of mischief, and was already becoming known to many as the Liesmith. But he asked it anyway.

Loki sighed softly, his gaze fixed on his blankets. "I...I was embarrassed, I suppose. Riding is the one physical activity at which I can at least _occasionally_ best you, and you know how attached I am to my dignity." He laughed, humorlessly and ironically, and finally looked up at Thor. "But you found me out, brother. Nicely sleuthed, I must admit."

Thor now regretted asking why Loki had lied. He feared that he had damaged his brother's already wounded pride even further, which had not at all been his intention.

"Do not worry, brother. I shall not tell a soul. You have my solemn word as the future king of Asgard. For the purposes of everyone else who asks, there _was_ a draft coming in your window."

Loki gave him a small smile, and there was definitely gratitude there this time, an observation which delighted Thor to no end. The rare moment did not last, however, for soon Loki was overcome by another fit of coughing.

Thor got to his feet. "I am going to see Eir to get you a tonic for that cough," he said, using his princely no-arguments tone. He doubted that Loki had been to see the palace's chief healer yet-it appeared he had not risen from his bed all morning. "Is there anything else I can get for you? You should eat some breakfast. Or at the very least drink some tea."

"Tea would be lovely," murmured Loki, closing his eyes and leaning back against his pillows again. "And maybe some porridge, if it's not too much trouble."

Thor had opened the chamber door and was about to turn around to say something over his shoulder that would have been along the lines of "of course it isn't too much trouble-anything to help my brother feel better". But the words never left his mouth, for he found himself staring at the slightly amused countenance of Sif.

"Ah, hello Sif! I thought you'd gone to the training ring." Her expression did not change, and for some reason it unnerved him a little and compromised his ability to form coherent thoughts. It was though she was indulging in some silent, private joke at the expense of everyone else present. "I've...found Loki." He gestured at his brother, who turned to regard the new visitor with a somewhat cautious expression on his face. "He has a cough, I was just going to see Eir for a tonic..."

Without bothering to ask if she could enter, Sif crossed the threshold and sidled into the room, her unchanging gaze fixed on Loki. She came to a stop in front of the bed, folded her arms across her chest, and said with a thick layer of mockery,

"Oh dear. Has the spirit of the Ugga Ruins caught a cold?"

Loki went white. Thor glanced back and forth between his brother and Sif in confusion.

"Wait a second, what..." Then it dawned on him. Of course. The dampened cloak, the receptive manner, the lie to cover up another lie to cover up the _real_ truth. He advanced on Loki, glaring stormily. "Why, you little..."

Loki held out his hands, palms facing forward, as if to create a buffer between his small frame and his brother's enormous, powerful, angry form, and said, trying to keep calm but sounding genuinely scared,

"It was only a bit of fun, Thor. Really!"

"_Only_ a bit of fun?" Thor practically roared. "You frightened the men who would be my warriors to the point of retreat! And not to mention spooking the horses-Volstagg could have been badly injured!" He briefly recalled the tome Loki had been studying in the library the previous day. Squirrel armies, his foot. Never mind the fact that Thor had actually been the one to postulate that in the first place.

Loki's expression switched from fearful to taunting. "The warriors? Forget them. You should have seen _your_ face, Thor Odin's son! You were _terrified_!"

Thor's enraged look must have intensified even more, for Loki began to look frightened again, until Sif's laugh rang, bell-like, through the chamber.

"He is right, Thor. You were the most frightened of all of them."

Her comment caused Thor to turn his glare upon her, but Sif did not seem nearly so affected by it as Loki. The laughter still danced in her eyes. Frustrated that she had indeed noticed-and apparently taken careful note of-his reaction the previous night, he turned on her, fury and frustration flaring.

"So _you_ were in on my brother's little prank then, Sif? I am disappointed. I thought you wiser and more mature than this! You saw what nearly happened to Volstagg..."

Sif cut him off. "You think _I_ was a part of this? Really Thor, I knew you were quick to jump to conclusions, but I never thought you capable of such misjudgment...such folly!" Her brown eyes blazed with anger, her voice rising with every word. Thor, who admittedly possessed a severe lack of mastery over his temper, heard his own voice increase in volume accordingly.

"Misjudgment? Folly? Is it really, Sif? If I recall correctly, there was only one person last night who did not seem at all concerned about the fact that we were being _attacked_ by a _dead person_!"

"And so you just _assumed_ it was because I was a part of Loki's scheme? Truly Thor, you offend me." From the somewhat injured way she was glaring at him, Thor perceived that this statement was perhaps only half made in sarcasm. "Do you want to know what I think?" Without waiting for him to answer, she went on. "I think that last night, _I_ was the one person who proved what you orchestrated this whole escapade to validate in the first place! I told you I would not believe in the spirit until I saw it, and I did not see a spirit! And do you want to know what_ else_ I think?" Again, there was no pause for Thor to answer the rhetorical question. "I think that you are embarrassed to admit that you, who were so set in your beliefs that there was no spirit, were wrong, in your mind, and to have it shown in front of the people who are soon to fight under you. And you are even more embarrassed to admit that you _were_ afraid. The brave and mighty Thor..."

"_ENOUGH!_" roared Thor, clenching his fists at his sides, fighting to keep from sending a clash of thunder to deafen the noise of Sif's tirade. His yell caused Sif to pause just enough for them both to hear Loki whimper piteously from the bed.

"_Please_, can you not argue so loudly? My head _aches_ so..." He was pinching his forehead above the bridge of his nose again, a look of agony written across his features. Thor, who had not forgotten his anger at his brother even in his confrontation with Sif, scowled menacingly at him before he turned back to the warrior woman, but he did reduce his tone to a low growl.

"I am the first prince of Asgard, and I will _not_ stand here and be belittled..."

"I don't care if you are king of the Nine Realms, Thor,_ I_ will not stand here and be falsely accused and have invalid, unsupported assumptions made about me! By anyone, and especially not someone I consider my friend."

It was as though she had not planned to say that last part-the horror in her eyes implied that it had somehow slipped out unintentionally. But there it was, settling between them and thickening the air like a mist. But behind that horror in her gaze was an intense hurt, and Thor finally realized what he had done. He did not want to admit it, _especially_ not in front of his brother. But it had to be done. He was in the wrong, and he had hurt someone he cared about.

"I...I am sorry, Sif," he said quietly. It took a moment after he had uttered the words for him to put aside his pride enough to raise his eyes to meet hers. But when he did, he saw that the pain in her gaze had receded a bit. He supposed he should continue. "You were right. I _was_ afraid, and it was made all the worse by how staunchly I stood by my disbelief in the spirit. I was humiliated, and that caused me to speak without thinking and make unfounded accusations. But saying the things I did was inexcusable. I hope you can forgive me." He ended there, shooting her his winningest pleading-look. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Loki rolling his eyes. Thor resisted the urge to empty his brother's water pitcher over his head.

Sif was silent for a moment, her gaze fixed upon him and suddenly showing very little of the hurt it had held just moments before. There was, to be honest, no emotion whatsoever written upon her countenance. She was considering Thor and his plea very thoroughly. Finally, she sighed a bit defeatedly and shook her head.

"Loki is right about you, Thor Odin's son. You could not be untruthful if your very life depended upon it. Because if I thought for _one moment_ that you did not mean what you said, I would not forgive you. But as it stands, you are a terrible liar and I see nothing but sincerity in your eyes. So yes, I suppose I do forgive you."

There was nothing tender in her tone-it was a very matter-of-fact pardon. But considering how unkind he had been, Thor supposed he should be grateful for what she was granting him.

"Thank you, Sif. You have my deepest gratitude." Had she been any other woman, he would have taken her hand and kissed it. But Thor knew that doing that to Sif would undoubtedly result in being slapped across the face, so instead he merely smiled warmly.

"Now that that is resolved, I suppose all that remains is what is to be done with our little prankster," he said winking secretively at Sif before turning to face his brother. Loki put on his most miserable, pitiable expression and whimpered,

"Please Thor, whatever it is you are thinking, just refrain from it. My head throbs, I have a terrible cough, and it hurts to breathe. Not to mention I spent nearly three hours riding home last night soaking wet in the freezing cold because _someone_ thought that setting a thunderstorm on a vengeful spirit would somehow make it go away. I think I've suffered enough, don't you?" He tacked on a sniffle at the end for good measure.

Thor glanced at Sif, who was now trying her very hardest not to smile. "You cannot hardly think you will get off so easily, brother! No, I have the perfect punishment for you..." Thor trailed off, grinning wickedly.

"And just what puts _you_ in a position to punish me? You are not the Allfather! I do not have to do anything you tell me." Loki sounded very much like a small child, and when he folded his arms over his chest and glared at Thor, it just enhanced the effect all the more.

"Ah, but can you stop me from telling Fandral, Volstagg, and Hogun about the true identity of the spirit of the Ugga Ruins?" Of course, the warrior pupils would do nothing to harm Loki-they were good of heart, and Loki was a prince, after all-but the ruination of the joke itself would be enough to break Loki's little trickster heart. No doubt he had planned for his victims to look upon the Ugga Ruins with fear for years to come, and to quietly lord the secret truth over them. But now the game would be up, and rightly so.

Loki reacted exactly the way Thor had predicted. "Come now, Thor, is that really necessary? It's over and done, why do they have to know?"

"Brother, you would not be learning anything from this if you allowed them to continue to believe in the spirit. When Volstagg's horse reared, he nearly fell. People get hurt that way, Loki."

"I_ am_ truly sorry for what nearly happened to Volstagg." And he did look it, but Thor was still wary. Loki continued. "But in case you haven't noticed, I feel miserable. I think I have learned my lesson."

Sif scoffed. "Learned your lesson? Loki, the day you stop playing pranks will be the day Thor will sacrifice a round in the training ring in favor of studying his history lessons." But then her teasing look gave way to a soft smile, very much similar to the one she had exchanged with Loki two nights ago in the fireside room. "It is a part of you, and nothing will ever change that."

Thor swore he thought he saw Loki's cheeks turn ever-so-slightly pink, but he supposed it could have been a touch of fever. And the coughing fit could have been genuine as well, but something told him it was induced in order to prevent Sif from seeing Loki's true reaction to this discreet display of fondness. His dignity would never have allowed for her to observe that.

"But all the same..." Thor began again, but Sif interrupted him.

"Just wait a moment, Thor. Let us think about this. Is there anything really wrong with allowing Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg to continue to believe in the spirit? Or in the three of us sharing this little secret? It might provide some very amusing times in the future. And now." She laughed. "Fandral is utterly convinced that he is cursed. I am not sure what he thinks will happen, but I, for one, am very curious to watch this story unfold."

The idea of the incredibly vain romantic dancing about the palace on tiptoe, jumping at every shadow because he believed some unseen force would strike any minute to ruin his much-prided appearance was indeed amusing. Thor finally gave in.

"All right. I suppose there is no harm in keeping this to ourselves." Both of his companions looked delighted. "I, for one, am looking forward to seeing in what ways the after effects of last night's little adventure manifest themselves in the behavior of our brave friends."

"I don't suppose Volstagg will ever tell a ghost story again," mused Loki, grinning slightly.

"I don't think anything could keep Volstagg from telling a story of any sort for long," chuckled Sif. "But you are right-he might require a bit of encouragement." They all shared a laugh and then Loki asked, thoughtfully,

"Sif, I must know-if nothing else, for the purpose of perfecting my skills as master prankster and lord of all mischief-how _did_ you know it was me? And when did you realize it?"

She smiled his self-laudation. "I began to suspect it when Thor said you had decided not to join us. I had thought for certain that you would wish to come and observe the spirit for yourself."

Loki interrupted. "That would be slightly incorrect. I would not wish to see the spirit for myself because there are no such thing. Or at least, there are no records of observations of spirits on Asgard in any of the books I have read."

Stunned, Thor argued, "But you said while we were listening to the story that you had read many books on spirits!"

Loki rolled his green eyes skyward. "In case you have not taken notice, Thor, sometimes I do not tell the truth, and I do it convincingly."

Thor briefly recalled his conversation with his brother in the library the previous day, and the slightly confused look on Loki's face that had lasted but a fleeting moment when Thor had mentioned the comment about reading books on spirits. He realized now that Loki had very nearly made a mistake, forgetting the lie he had told the previous night. Of course it all seemed so obvious now, after everything was said and done.

Sif was continuing her recounting of her realization that Loki was behind the spirit. "The rest of it was just putting pieces of the puzzle together. Your horse was already gone when we got to the stables, implying that you had left immediately after dinner. It is not really the most optimum time to go for a ride, is it? Not to mention it was warmer in the afternoon. I would have thought you would have gone then, and spent the evening in front of the fire.

"I also thought that when the spirit positioned itself against the light of the full moon, its frame looked very much like yours. Because I already suspected you, I did not allow my fear to overtake me so much the very moment I saw the spirit that my mind could not function, unlike some _others_ in my party." She raised a taunting eyebrow at Thor, and this time it was Thor's turn to roll his eyes.

"But I think the moment that sealed it for me was when you pointed directly at us. I knew then that you were just playing it up. Because you, Loki Odin's son, can never resist the opportunity to be dramatic."

Thor half expected his brother to be offended by this, but Loki merely smiled, his voice laden with mock self-deprecation.

"My dear Sif, I am afraid you know me too well. I fear I have failed in my duties as trickster by allowing someone to gain such intimate knowledge of the workings of my mind."

There was her laugh again, bell-like and clear. "Or perhaps I am just observant, Loki Silvertongue."

"Perhaps." The comment was but a sigh, but those viridian eyes were dancing.

As his companions engaged in their gentle teasing, Thor found himself casting his mind back once more to the previous night. In the moment when the spirit had begun to produce the smoke, Sif had murmured "What _is_ he doing?". _He._ Not _it_. It had been the only time, within Thor's recollection, that any of them had referred to the spirit as "he" or "him" rather than "it" or "the spirit". Sif _had_ guessed then that it was Loki beneath the cloak, conjuring the mist, laughing silently at their expense. She was indeed a marvel.

"Well Sif, I suppose a congratulations are in order," he said, with a touch of resignation but sounding mostly impressed. "You are truly warrior material. Last night you showed courage, you acted to protect a friend,"-he pictured her calming Volstagg's terrified stallion with but a few strokes and whispers- "and you kept a cool head under pressure. If it was possible for my respect for you to increase even more, it would." Thor did not give away such words easily, and he could tell Sif knew that, for her smile was genuinely honored.

"I too, must contribute my own felicitations," said Loki. "I thought my prank foolproof, and you showed me to be wrong simply by observing and thinking." He paused, thinking. "I believe you would be a much more worthy chess opponent than Hogun. Will you humor me?"

Sif scoffed slightly. "I should hardly think I would be suited to such a game. I have never played, nor do I know how, but watching you and Hogun play makes it seem to me like it is just a lot of staring. At the board, then at the other, and then at the board again. I fear I would grow disinterested."

"But if you have never tried, how would you know? I would be more than happy to teach you. I shall not be doing anything else today." He motioned with his hands to indicate his bed, denoting the current less-than-optimal state of his health. "I think you would enjoy it more than you believe, Sif."

Those last words were earnest, and his beckoning eyes were so full of encouragement and invitation that Thor could not blame Sif for giving in.

"All right. This afternoon, after training. Speaking of which..." She glanced at Thor, a mildly wicked smile on her face. "We should get going. I fully intend to beat Thor in the training ring today."

"Oh, do you?" The return jab was meant to convey an eagerness for the competition, but the effect was mitigated by Thor's acute awareness of his own exhaustion and soreness.

"As stiff as you seem to be today? Yes, I do. Very much." She smiled widely. Thor groaned internally. So she had noticed, then. Loki gave a hoarse laugh.

"So I am not the only one feeling the physical effects of last night's little escapade, then?"

"Last night as well as the riding lesson the day before, I should think." Sif's brown eyes were sparkling with jest. It really was not fair, having them both gang up on him like this.

"Oh all right, I admit it. The mighty Thor is a _bit_ saddle-stiff. But it shall not affect my performance in the ring, of that I can assure you."

It did. That morning, Thor suffered one of the most humiliating defeats of his entire training. While Sif did not gloat excessively, which he was thankful for, that look in her eye, the one that said "_I told you so_", was enough to make him resolve to practice riding much more frequently. And to get more sleep.

But Thor supposed his own embarrassment was nothing compared to that of Hogun, Volstagg, and Fandral. Hogun, who had always been superstitious, was from that day forward even more so, with a particular emphasis on preventing angering spirits or wights or supernatural creatures of any sort.

As Loki had predicted, it was awhile before they could convince Volstagg to tell them another scary story. Of all three of his friends who remained ignorant to what had truly happened that night, Thor felt the worst about keeping Volstagg in the dark, for he was the one who had most readily followed Thor on the adventure in the first place. Thor would need to think of a subtle yet meaningful way to reward him for his loyalty, without actually bringing up the subject of the spirit. But in the meantime, it was admittedly entertaining to watch the enormous, hulking man jump at shadows for at least a week after the event.

Fandral, however, provided by far the most fun. Every single time he put passed a mirror, the vain young man would check to make sure that his face still possessed the same features it had five minutes ago, and that it had not developed warts or boils or become hideously disfigured. Loki found this particularly amusing, and he formulated a plan to magic away Fandral's mustache. He would have undoubtedly gone through with it, too, if Thor had not finally and definitively put his foot down, saying that he _would_ make the truth known about the whole thing if the end to the active doing-of-mischief was not reached then and there. Loki assented, unhappily, but he still made the ends of the cherished patch of facial hair droop uncontrollably for a couple of days. Just for good measure.

Sif, ever the quick learner, took quite well to chess. After a week of playing Loki and observing his move patterns, she even managed to stalemate him. He was incredibly alarmed at first, stammering in disbelief, his eyes wide. But then Sif had begun to laugh at his reaction, and he had begun to laugh right along with her, probably because he liked the sound of her laugh more than due to any humor he found in the situation. But he was happy to have found someone who he considered a worthy opponent.

It would be several evenings before the two of them were not the only ones enjoying themselves in a state of non-awkwardness as they all sat together in the fireside room. For Thor, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg, it would be quite awhile before they could get past their respective embarrassments or stop thinking about that night at the Ugga Ruins. They lived in a perpetual state of discomfort for days.

And although it was nearly a week before Loki was recovered enough to resume his training, he would hold for years to come that his little prank had been worth every sniffle.


End file.
